


How Steve Knows

by Lil_Yanna17



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: I felt like civil war was missing something, One Shot, Other, always trash, hate myself, how steve knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 07:45:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6795328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lil_Yanna17/pseuds/Lil_Yanna17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So I saw Civil War today, kinda felt like some things were missing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Steve Knows

**Author's Note:**

> I just wrote this real quick after the movie. Sorry if it doesn't make sense.

     “We’re alone.” Steve closed the notebook which held his own picture. He stood with his back to the other person in the room. Bucky’s apartment, a space in shambles; notebooks, papers, the bed taking up the whole floor in the small living room. “No one’s after me,” He turned to the ghost behind him, who was clenching his fist. “Or you.”      

“I know, Steve.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve read about you, from the uh, museum.” He was holding something back, a distant memory. The notebook Steve held, it kept those. Everything he could remember, names, places. Feelings. He remembered the apartment similar to the one he had now, only Steve was there every day. The warmth of them sharing a bed, the two making soup, bread, anything to help Steve’s illnesses. He didn't need that anymore from Him. He looked around the room. “I’m trying to live again.”  

 “Can we sit?” He took a few slow steps toward the small table and chairs by the window. Hands up in surrender. “We haven’t in awhile.” He smiled as he pulled the wooden chair across the aching floor and sat. “Buck, I need to know it’s you.”

“It’s me.” He looked away from Steve. “I don’t want to be me.” He grabbed his own chair, but sat a few feet away from the table. “I can’t-” He thought for a second. “Trust myself.” He looked back at his friend, “I don’t know what we used to be, but I can’t-” He swallowed and let out a sigh, “We can’t just fix what, seventy years of war? This, friendship, we had,” Steve’s chest tightened at the word, he knew that they’d had more. “Could it even be fixed?”

“I never stopped being your friend.” Steve rested his hands flat on the table. “You only stopped being my friend involuntarily. I just got back, I was gone for seventy years while you- you suffered. You had to live a life that wasn’t your own.” He leaned back, eyes still on Bucky’s.

“I’ve done really shitty things, Steve. Really bad things.” He knew, every time he took someone’s life, some small piece of humanity inside him left. “I can feel everything, I felt the anger and sadness that just, consumed me.”

“You’re still human.” Bucky laughed. Cold, bitter. He slipped the thin fabric of his glove off his hand. He moved his metal fingers in front of him. “That doesn’t define you, Buck.”

“It’s defined what i’ve done.”

“That’s not true.” Steve squeezed his hand into a fist and sat up. “Your past doesn’t define you,” He pointed at Bucky. “You let yourself define your future.”

“How am I supposed to move on, huh?” Bucky stood up, Steve scooted his chair back. “Every time I blink, I feel like when I open my eyes, i’ll be gone. I’ll be the Soldier again.” He kicked the chair down, hitting the wall, one of the legs fell off and scattered to pieces. “The suffering and death i’ve caused to people I don’t even know. To people I did-” He stopped. His eyes widened, arms falling to his sides, and he sat. Shaking.

“Who did you know?” Steve stood and came to Bucky, who was sitting on the floor, his body limp against the wall. Bucky’s eyes were distant, thinking. Steve took his hand, “What did you do?” Bucky didn’t move, his body now still.

“I killed our friend.” He looked at Steve, their faces close enough for Steve to see the fear in Bucky’s eyes. “I killed his wife.”


End file.
